Sunday, April 17, 2011

beloved Dreams

 I hear it is romantic to dream of a beloved.
So label me with an adjective, because I can’t sleep without thinking of you. I can’t eat anything without wondering how much better equipped for you I would be if I were sixty pounds skinnier. I can’t hear a song on the radio without wondering if someday it could make you think of an us that could someday exist. I never get out of bed until I’ve checked to see if I’ve heard from you. I never run without thinking that if I manage to accelerate I could build up enough stamina to get beside you. I never hold hands with other boys because they just don’t fit the same way. I never say your name in populated conversation because that just riles up the butterflies inside me. I always turn away to refrain from the blushing and smiling when someone else brings you up. I instantly think of you when someone mentions a “plus one” or a “date”.
But don’t dare think this is about you,
And don’t dare fell too loved; because I never, ever, dream about you.
                                                                                                                This is way too conscious for that. 

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